


same blood

by MayWilder



Series: justify my existence [5]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Arya and Sansa are best friends, F/M, Family Feels, Gendrya - Freeform, M/M, Sister-Sister Relationship, jonsa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-01 03:58:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17236976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayWilder/pseuds/MayWilder
Summary: Sansa physically crumbles, but Arya catches her. Theon leaves them be so that Sansa can clutch Arya and cry into her neck. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”“This isn’t your fault,” Arya whispers into Sansa’s hair. She holds her closely.Arya hurts in every fiber of her being. Never again will she and Sansa drift so far apart that Arya misses something as big as this happening in her sister’s life.“Things will be different,” Arya says out loud. “I promise you, Sansa, things will be different from now on.”





	same blood

**Author's Note:**

> Technically in the same universe as "i'll dry your tears" and "i think its called love." A companion piece, if you will.

 Sansa is nineteen when Theon Greyjoy tells the Starks that he thinks Sansa is being abused.

“The long sleeves, the always cancelling plans and asking Joffrey for permission,” Theon rattles off. “She flinches at loud noises now and doesn’t touch men. She talks like I used to sound.”

Robb folds his hands together and Jon shakes with a silent fury. Ned is frowning deeply, and Catelyn has her hands over her mouth.

“I believe you,” Arya says quietly. “What are we going to do?”

“Support her,” Jon answers immediately. He’s looking at Arya. “You’re not going to tell her she’s stupid or deserves it.”

Arya feels like she’s been slapped.

“Enough, Jon,” Ned says sharply. “We’ll go to Highgarden and get Sansa.”

“She can withdrawal from school for the semester,” Catelyn says softly. “I’ll call Petyr, he’s been a professor at Highgarden for a long time. He can speak to Olenna about Sansa’s future. That way, we won’t lie when we say she doesn’t have to worry.”

“Jon and Theon and I can go get her,” Robb offers. “She won’t be able to deal with you and Dad.”

“That’s too many men, it should be Theon and me,” Arya interrupts. Everyone stares at her. “What?”

“I know you love your sister,” Catelyn speaks gently. “But you have not been the most forthcoming about it.”

Jon is staring at her with that unreadable expression she hates. Robb is waiting patiently, and Theon looks like he understands.

“Sansa idolizes Robb and Jon,” Arya explains slowly. “And she relies on them thinking of her as being perfect. It will crush her. Theon is the only one who will understand, and me…I am her sister.”

“Arya,” Catelyn starts. “You don’t have to—

“I am her sister!” Arya says firmly. She needs her family to understand the weight of that sentence without the explanation. “I…am her _sister_. Theon and I are going to go get her.”

There’s silence for a long moment, before Robb nods. “Okay. I’ll go gas up your car while you get a bag together.”

Later, Theon and Arya are driving down the highway alone. Arya is bouncing her knee and her fingers won’t stop twitching. “It was stupid of me to offer, wasn’t it?”

“No,” Theon sighs. “It was good of you. You care about her.”

Arya doesn’t reply.

“Why is it so terrible?” he presses. “To care about Sansa?”

“It’s not!” Arya grumbles. “It’s just…Sansa is so different than I am. She doesn’t know anything about football and she won’t get dirty—

“When is the last time you actually listened to your sister talk? Or spent time with her?” Theon shifted in the driver’s seat. “I think that if you did those things, you would learn something.”

“Like what?”

“Like maybe the fact that Sansa uses her weirdly large Instagram following to post pictures and videos of her sister’s football matches,” he pointed out. “And if you followed her on Instagram, you know that she tags recruitment agents from universities all over Westeros. She even got her followers to repost and spread the word about how brilliant you are.”

Arya doesn’t have anything to say for a long moment while she contemplates what he said. It makes sense now why Karhold University had called her the week before and said they were impressed with the fact that she already had a social media presence. Robb’s agent, Tyrion Lannister, had said that it was just because they wanted more promotion for Karhold, but Arya didn’t care. Now, she cares because she knows where it comes from.

“I don’t hate her,” Arya says after she gets her thoughts together. “I do love her. And I remember all the little things she does. I know she’s kind, but we just used to argue so much. She was always so perfect, and Mum and Dad were so proud of how the world looks at her as the Lady of Winterfell. Mum wasn’t even mad that she lost her title. Sansa is a fashion icon and has friends in high places. She’s dating the Prime Minister’s son.”

“Just because Sansa has made them proud in some ways, doesn’t mean they aren’t proud of you in other ways. Your father financially supports your decision to be a football player, and that’s a big deal when you’re nobility. He loves that you’re athletic and strong and he thinks you tell the funniest jokes. He likes that you’re teaching Rickon to get his energy out through sports. Your mother thinks that you’re going to empower women by dressing how you want and telling the world to the same. She thinks you’ll be the reason little girls know its okay not to be a princess.

“You’re different, Arya, and you two haven’t always understood each other. It doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try to understand now. She isn’t your sister just because of blood. She’s your sister because you choose to love her. That’s how family works.”

Arya looks over to Theon. He’s staring at the road intently, his black curls doing something weirdly shiny in the low traffic light. She remembers the night he left home to move into one of the Stark’s spare rooms. His dad didn’t love him because he was different. The Starks did, though, and still do. They adore Theon. Arya loves him.

“I see what you’re saying,” Arya whispers. “I hope this wasn’t a mistake. That she lets me help her.”

“I think she will,” Theon sighs. “But we have five hours to go. Anything less depressing to talk about?”

“You and Robb get together yet?”

“I said _less_ depressing.”

“It shouldn’t be depressing, you love him. He loves you.”

“He thinks of me as his brother.”

“Is it normal to want to fuck your brothers?”

“Arya!”

“And you two thought you were quiet,” Arya sniggers. “I went downstairs to get a glass of water the night you and Robb graduated. When I passed your room…well, I went to sleep without water so I could get back to my room as quickly as possible.”

Theon looks miserable all of a sudden. “I am going to tell you this once, and then we’re going to put on the terrible music Jon and his college buddies are playing. We’re going to listen to rock music and then save Sansa.”

Arya waits.

“I love Robb,” he says quietly. “I would literally die for him. I am so far gone that I set him up with Jeyne when he was too nervous to ask her out, back in year 12. Despite the fact that after graduation, when he’d been broken up with her for months, he fucked me three times in one night. It was the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and he freaked out. We didn’t talk for a week until I said we could pretend it never happened. We were best friends again.”

“Theon, that’s not fair. You shouldn’t have to pretend—

“And now… _The Night’s Watch_!”

**)-(**

Sansa opens the door in confusion. “Arya? Theon?"

Arya wants to cry out as soon as she sees her sister but keeps a lid on her emotions as always. Sansa has obviously been crying, as her eyes are uneasily bloodshot. Her collar bone is bruised, and her ankle is wrapped. There are fingertip-shaped bruises on her forearm.

Sansa sees Arya looking and tries to pull her robe tighter around her chest. “This is nothing.”

“Sansa,” Theon whispers. “Come home.”

“It’s the middle of the night,” Sansa says. Her voice is scratchy. “I don’t—

“Sansa, you don’t have to hide anything.”

Her lip trembles.

So, Arya steps forward, reaches for Sansa’s hands. “Sansa, I don’t know what’s going on. You haven’t been home for months, even over breaks, and you don’t talk to anyone anymore. You’re covered in bruises and you look miserable. If you don’t want to say anything or talk to anyone, you don’t have to. But come home, somewhere you can feel safe. Nobody…no matter how powerful or manipulative…can harm you if you just come home and be with us.”

“Why do you care what happens to me?” Sansa whispers. Tears fall quickly and quietly. “You don’t even like me.”

“You’re my sister, Sansa.” Arya takes another step and offers a hand out. “Please let Theon throw some stuff in a bag and come get in the car. I-I love you and I just want you to come home.”

Her throat tightens, and she finally feels a sob welling her chest. She swallows it down, even as her eyes blur. “Please, Sansa. I’ll take care of you. You don’t have to take care of yourself anymore. _Let me_.”

Sansa physically crumbles but Arya catches her. Theon leaves them be so that Sansa can clutch Arya and cry into her neck. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry _, I’m so sorry_.”

“This isn’t your fault,” Arya whispers into Sansa’s hair. She holds her closely. “This is not your fault.”

Arya hurts in every fiber of her being. Never again will she and Sansa drift so far apart that Arya misses something as big as this happening in her sister’s life.

“Things will be different,” Arya says out loud. “I promise you, Sansa, things will be different from now on.”

* * *

 

Sansa leaves school for a few months. She helps Arya with her finals and cheers loudly at graduation. The entire Stark family (plus Jon and Theon) go down to the family lake house and spend time together. Arya teaches Sansa self-defense and follows her sister on Instagram. She accepts the offer from Karhold and gets Sansa’s help in promoting the school. They read together and watch trashy television. Arya grudgingly lets Sansa cut her hair and is pleasantly surprised at the sharp edges and short style Sansa does.

They spend time together. 

And Arya loves it. 

* * *

 

Sansa is twenty when she goes back to school and decides to start her own business. She’s watching a movie with Rickon when the young man asks her if “assistants who get laundry and walk dogs actually exist?” Sansa says she thinks its just in the movies, and Rickon thinks that’s too bad. Arya watches as Sansa pulls out her phone and starts research. Two months later, she has a business model for Ned Stark and the entire family is proud of her.

She moves back to Highgarden for school and becomes very close to Margaery Tyrell. Sansa spends time with her, as well as fashion designer Loras Tyrell and his boyfriend Renly Baratheon. She finds friends but tells Arya she wishes she had a piece of home.

That’s when Jon’s boss reassigns him to work at their office in Highgarden and he lives twenty minutes from Sansa’s university. Sansa is joyous to have him around. When Arya visits, it’s clear that they’re the best of friends.

She decides she isn’t jealous. She asks Jon if he _requested_ a transfer or if he was _told_ to transfer. Jon doesn’t answer, but he ducks his head with a blush and tells her to stop asking questions.

* * *

 

The next holiday break, Arya comes home to find her sister crying in her bedroom.

“Theon isn’t coming back,” Sansa tumbles her words into Arya’s lap. “He and Robb slept together awhile back, and Robb keeps pretending it never happens. Theon started dating that Ramsey bloke and Robb was furious. He’s doing drugs, Arya, and Ramsey beats his lovers. He’s going to get hurt. He’s our family, and we’re going to lose him. He saved me and _I’m_ going to lose him.”

“Theon will come home,” Arya croaks. She doesn’t cry, but her voice is harsh, and she is furious with Robb. “He has to come home. He’s family. Anyways, we still have Jon, right?”

Sansa laughs bitterly. “Let’s hope Robb doesn’t fuck him too." 

“Maybe we can actually go to Mass.”

* * *

 

Sansa is twenty-one when Theon is beaten bloody by Ramsey Bolton and its her turn to take care of him. Arya and Sansa spend all night in the hospital while Theon sleeps, talking about how Catelyn came across Robb and Theon making up and snogging in the hospital.

“They haven’t spoken since Theon started dating Ramsey and doing drugs,” Arya mumbles. “And now they’re snogging over broken ribs. It’s mad, isn’t it?”

Sansa smiles, and Arya sees the taste for romance is still with her elder sister. “I don’t want Jeyne to get hurt, but Robb and Theon belong together.”

“He’s got to break off the engagement first, brilliant one.” Arya shifts. “But you’re right.”

Of course, Robb doesn’t break the engagement. Jeyne visits the Stark estate, with a Stark engagement ring, and checks on her fiancé. Theon is gone the next morning and Robb is a mess.

It’s a month after that Arya gets another phone call from Sansa while she’s still studying at Highgarden. Arya finds out that its where Theon ran off to, and that he’s gone and moved into Jon’s flat until he finds a place of his own.

“Does Robb know?” Arya asks cautiously. She wants to drive down there and yell at Theon or find Robb and yell at him. She thinks she’d just like to yell. “That you and Jon are spending time with Theon?”

“Robb is running around the country playing football while Theon just got out of rehab. I’m not going to mess up his recovery by having Robb show up.”

“Fair enough, he’d probably just run off again. The boy is too scared for his own good.”

“Have you not seen the papers?” Sansa sounds shocked. “Jon, send Arya the link to that article!”

In moments, Arya’s phone buzzes and she puts Sansa on speaker to read the article titled “Northern Fairytale Fallout.” Arya runs her eyes over the story (most likely written by Tyrion Lannister’s impeccable PR moves) which stated that Robb and Jeyne had called their engagement quits and that the beloved football player was bisexual and trying to understand this newly accepted version of himself.

“He’s out by choice,” Arya says in shock.

“Yeah,” Jon’s voice joins the conversation. Arya thinks he must be rather close to Sansa because she knows she isn’t on speaker. “He’s calling through the family, we just got off the phone with him.”

“Theon knows, yeah?”

“He’s acknowledged it,” Sansa says slowly. “He’s proud that Robb didn’t do it for him, but he wishes he had done it ages ago. I can tell he misses him.”

“You think it’ll work out?”

“We can wait and see." 

Months later, at Christmas, Jon brings Theon home and the entire family is one again.

* * *

 

Sansa is twenty-two when she graduates university. They have a big party and Arya meets Gendry, someone who Sansa took a few classes with.

“Gendry and I are going to start a business together,” Sansa says, even though she’s a little tipsy. Her arm is thrown around the large man and he chuckles at her. “Gendry is a whiz with numbers and shit.”

“I like maths,” he shrugs. “Maybe one day we will start a business.”

Arya looks him up and down. She’s had just enough to drink to know that she very much likes the muscles under his dress shirt and the bright blue of his crinkling eyes. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Gendry.”

Someone calls Sansa’s attention and Gendry is left to smile at Arya awkwardly. She steps closer. “You look miserable.”

“I’m not really one for parties,” Gendry admits. He steps closer as well, leaning in conspiratorially. “And I think I’m Sansa’s only poor friend. I’m renting this suit.”

She laughs, and hopes he understands that she isn’t making fun. With his wink and smile, she thinks he does.

“Anyways, I’ve plenty to say about the hierarchy of Westeros that I’m pretty sure you don’t want to hear. Even though Sansa says you’re not one for tradition, it can be a bit boring.”

“Actually,” Arya says plainly. “I’d love to hear it.”

Gendry smiles, and its breathtaking.

They hook up in the laundry room of Margaery Tyrell’s giant house and he takes care of her in a tender way, even as he fucks her against the wall with no strain to his limbs. He’s strong and tastes of her favorite tequila. Arya falls apart when he touches the right place while pushing into her, mind racing because he’s smart, kind, and strong. He likes Star Wars and maths, but he can box and blacksmith. He’s different, he’s full of color. She learns all of this in Margaery Tyrell’s laundry room.  

She gets his phone number and they start talking. 

He’s a gentle giant and Arya thinks she might love him.

* * *

 

Sansa’s been graduated for two months when the Starks find out that Petry Baelish has been blackmailing and controlling the oldest Stark girl since she finished school. He’s an old friend of the Stark matriarch that worked at Sansa’s university and was pretending to help her get her business started. Catelyn feels betrayed and Sansa’s anxiety puts her in daily therapy, so she comes back home again. Arya is so angry she breaks into Petyr’s house and bruises him until he feels the physical pain of the emotional terror he pulled on Sansa.

Arya doesn’t go to jail, but she has mandated therapy.

Gendry doesn’t break up with her. He kisses her and says everyone has something they’ve done wrong. She says that he should leave her for someone mentally stable.

“You are stable, Arya. You’re not mental.”

She raises her eyebrows.

“Alright, you’re a little looney, but you’re not unstable. Sick can still mean stable. And sick people can be loved.”

She doesn’t really think Gendry has anything wrong with him.

She asks him to marry her, and he says yes.

 _I’m going to marry him_ , Arya thinks to herself as she walks up the staircase of her family home. She wonders if Sansa will be happy to hear that, so she goes to her sister’s room. The door is open, and the sight is a sad one.

“Sans?” Arya whispers, approaching slowly. Her sister is sitting on the floor of her room, scissors in hand and brown hair in a pile around her. “Sansa, what’s happened?”

“Petyr,” Sansa whispered. “Petyr fancied me with brown hair, so I dyed it. I can’t have something he likes anymore, I won’t.”

“You don’t have to,” Arya says. She kneels in front of Sansa. “I can call Renly. He’ll have your hair fixed in no time, yeah? We’ll strip the die and…you know, whatever it is that he does in words I don’t know. He’ll fix it.”

Sansa’s lip trembled. “I still hear him, you know. Petyr. Telling me everything that’s wrong with me and everything I’ve done wrong.”

“Well, Petry was a fucking lunatic,” Arya tells her sister plainly. She slowly moves her hand to cover Sansa’s, retracting the scissors while she speaks. “The voice in your head should be you, reminding you of how you can improve when something is wrong and telling you that you’re good enough when it goes right.”

Sansa takes a shaky breath as another tear falls. “I don’t know if I’m equipped to handle it. I feel lost and confused and I want to remember what it’s like to be sure of myself and what I wanted.”

“Then start with right now, Sans,” Arya says. “What do you want right now?”

Sansa looks thoughtful. “A hug from Jon. And maybe a brownie.”

“Ah,” Arya chuckles. “Well, luckily his snapchat story says he’s making brownies in his hotel room. Let’s throw some pajamas in a bag and go see him, yeah?" 

“Yeah, okay,” Sansa nods. “Let’s go see Jon.”

* * *

 

Sansa is still twenty-two and starting to get better when Arya and Gendry get married on a hilltop.

In the time since Sansa’s graduated, Arya has met Gendry, Sansa has been blackmailed, Sansa has turned twenty-two, Arya and Gendry have gotten engaged, and finally married. 

It’s been an insane five months, but Arya is blissfully happy. She stands on a hilltop, vows to love Gendry forever, and feels strong with her sister at her right hand. She prays life doesn’t change.

* * *

 

It’s the following Christmas season when King Rhaegar Targaryen dies. His sister Daenerys Targaryen takes the throne as queen before discovering she has a bastard nephew not too much younger than her. She meets with Jon Snow and everything goes public. He meets the rest of his remaining family—a stepmother and a younger sister—and the whole lot come to Winterfell to get to know Jon. They go on TV with an interview on how this all came about.

The Starks and Theon gather in their family room to watch the live interview, though it’s happening in Winterfell’s library. It turns out that Jon’s mother was Lyanna Dayne, daughter of a very rich man who pushed his daughter towards the friendship of a king who struggled with fidelity. When Lyanna became pregnant, however, King Rhaegar told his family that she simply disappeared. In truth, she moved very far north and took the name Snow to raise her son in peace. Though there is nothing except estates and money left of the Dayne’s, Jon’s father’s family takes him in. Duchess Elia says she will proudly love him as her own son and Princess Rhaenys adores her new brother.

Catelyn Stark purses her lips and Ned takes her hand. “He’ll always know you loved him first, Cat.”

“He’ll know we all loved him first,” Arya says in determination.

The interview continues. Daenerys confesses she is barren and that a legitimized Jon will be her heir. Princess Rhaenys is pleased she will not have to become queen.

“Prince Jon,” Theon grins. “Who would have guessed it?”

“I would have,” Sansa says earnestly. “He’s always been the prince, even when we played as children.”

Arya wants to be angry that Sansa looks at Jon so reverently now that he’s a prince, but she realizes something.

Sansa has always looked at Jon that way.

Not two hours later, its announced that Sansa and Jon are dating.

* * *

 

Sansa is twenty-three when her business takes off. She’s got a company of personal assistants who seek to improve the lives of the people around them. While Sansa is the CEO, Gendry is the CFO. He handles the money, Sansa handles matching assistants and clients, but she still walks dogs and picks up dry cleaning occasionally. She trains assistants to plan parties and wrap gifts and signs everyone up for self-defense classes. She starts yoga. She hangs out with Jon’s birth family and starts going to fancy parties with Marge again.

She starts healing.

Arya likes watching her sister heal. 

* * *

 

Sansa gets engaged while the entire family is on vacation. The celebration lasts all night, and the family is happy to grow—including Arya, who discovers she’s pregnant and decides to focus on school until she gives birth. She’ll go back after the baby is born and pursue her career. Gendry is planning on working from home with their child. They buy a bigger house and Arya thinks life is good.

She’s playing with Gendry’s hair while he plays Skyrim when her phone buzzes on the nightstand. She thinks about ignoring it, but something presses on her to set her book aside and pick it up. When she looks at the screen, Sansa is looking up at her with a milk mustache and a head thrown back in a laugh. She looks obnoxious in the picture, but it was a three AM chocolate chip cookie run—the goofiness of the pictures shows how much fun they had.

“Hello, sister,” Arya says like she’s annoyed at the call. In reality, she wishes Sansa was closer to home and called more often.

“Is it a bad time?”

Arya pushes Gendry off of her and sits up. Gendry frowns and makes a face at her violent shove. Sansa’s voice is all wrong. “Always, you know me. I’m a very important person with very important things to do.”

Sansa laughs, which was the intended goal, but it’s still wrong _. Wrong wrong wrong_.

“Of course, I know that,” Sansa went on. “I just, erm—I, just—just—”

Sansa stuttering means she’s going too deeply inside her own head. “Sans?”

“It’s just so loud,” Sansa whispers. Arya really hopes Sansa isn’t pulling at the long red locks she was so proud to have grown out again. “I can’t stop thinking, Arya, _I can’t stop_. I’ve been over my day at least ten times in my head and it’s only—why do I have to remember all of it? Every _little_ thing that went wrong, its there—"

“Sansa, breathe slowly,” Arya says in what she hopes is a soothing voice. “Listen, tell me what you’re so worried about. What happened?”

“I forgot his trousers, Arya, I don’t know where they are! I don’t know if they’re in my car or if I left them at the flat. If they’re at the flat, where are they in the flat? I’ve misplaced them, and I can’t keep messing up. I’m supposed to be better than this.”

Arya searches for what to say, remembering everything the psychologist said about what her sister needs in these moments. “Do you want to stay on the phone with me while you go look for the trousers?” Arya isn’t sure who the clothing belongs to, but she assumes they’re one of Sansa’s clients.

“No, it’s dark, I can’t go out there!”

Arya’s lips purse. It’s so easy to get frustrated at Sansa when she’s like this. The solutions could be so easy, but Sansa gets anxious about something else. Just as Arya feels her heckles rise, she looks to Gendry. He’s staring, sympathetically, with the same eyes that he gave her when she was struggling through anger management.

“Alright,” Arya says softly. “What can I do…to make it quiet?”

“I don’t know,” Sansa whimpers. “I understand now, I know why people do it, its just so loud, and I need everything to just stop. I want it to stop, Arya…”

The last sentence was said in a sort of strangled breath and Arya panicked. “Sansa, what are you talking about?”

“I understand why people _end_ it, if only to feel a moment’s peace...”

“Hold on, Sans, I can’t hear you.” Arya lies and puts the phone on mute. She looks at Gendry. “I need you to go in the next room. Call Jon, tell him he needs to get to Sansa’s house as soon as possible. She isn’t saying she’s going to kill herself, but she’s saying she understands why people do it. Tell him that exactly.”

Gendry stands to leave.

“And tell him to check in her car for men’s trousers!” Sansa never locks her car, so it should be easy to get into.

Gendry nods, picks up his phone, and leaves.

Arya unmutes. “Sansa, can you hear me?”

“Yes.” Sansa is crying now. “Arya, I’m sorry, I don’t know what to do. I thought I was better but today has been so hard. I can’t go back, Arya, I can’t.”

“You won’t go back,” Arya promises fiercely.

“How do you know that?”

“Because I’m coming down to Highgarden,” Arya says. “Tonight. We’re going to take some LSD or ecstasy or whatever we can, I’m going to hop inside your mind, and I’m going to kill all the fucking demons.”

“Arya, you already put Petyr in the hospital.”

“Yeah, and it’s illegal to kill him, so I’ll make do with the pesky things creating hell in your mind.”

Sansa is crying again, and Arya goes to find a suitcase.

Another voice joins, sounding slightly far off. “Sansa?”

“Jon?”

Arya listens as Sansa’s phone makes a noise, like it’s hitting the ground. She lets out a sob and Arya hears Jon whispering softly to Sansa. “I’m here, love, it’s alright. I’m here.”

“Jon,” Sansa sobs. “You found the trousers.”

“They were in your backseat, dry cleaner’s tag still in place,” Jon chuckles. “Nothing to worry about, sweetheart.”

“I’m so sorry,” Sansa says. “It’s so late, you didn’t have to come.”

“Nonsense.”

Arya is glad Jon is going to marry Sansa. She hangs up, looks at Gendry through the open door of their closet. He must have seen the suitcase Arya pulled out and known what to do. Arya now runs at him, knocking him to the ground with his complaint of “oof” and “You’re mad, woman!” She only laughs and kisses him.

_My, how our lives have changed._

**)-(**

Arya and Gendry drive all night long to arrive at Sansa’s door with their suitcases in hand. Arya shouldn’t be surprised to see Rickon and Bran sitting around Sansa’s living room. She’s less surprised to see the married Robb and Theon in the kitchen making tea. When one Stark has something wrong, they all come running. Right now, Sansa looks happy to be tucked into Jon’s side with a mug of tea, surrounded by the people she loves and trusts.

But then she sees Arya and makes Arya wonder when their relationship evolved to her driving six hours in the middle of the night to see Sansa and Sansa’s face lighting up the room because of it. Why had they been so terrible to each other as children? Why had they been missing out on this? Something pure and safe. Was it something that needed to be cultivated over the years, or had they just been stubborn?

“Arya.” Sansa stands. “You actually came.”

“‘Course I did, stupid,” Arya grumbles, but she lets Sansa wrap her in a tight hug anyways. “LSD and all.”

“You’re joking.”

“Obviously. Why would I spend money on LSD when I know your fancy arse has bath salts?”

“Why must you joke about drugs?”

“I don’t like emotions and jokes diffuse the situation?”

Her brothers snort, but Sansa only sighs and pulls back from the hug. Her eyes are red from when she was crying, but she has color in her cheeks and fondness in her eyes. Arya’s fear at losing her sister subsides. In its place is immense relief.

“Well, it’s fucking late,” Arya says. “Where am I sleeping?”

Sansa looks over Arya’s shoulder at Gendry. “Do you mind if I steal her for the night?”

“I certainly don’t tell her what to do,” Gendry says in his kind rumble of a voice. Arya kisses him and the two sisters head to Sansa’s room.

“Thanks for calling Jon.” Sansa walks to her wardrobe as she speaks. “And I’m sorry I had to call at all, and for scaring you. I’m sorry for everything, really.”

“There’s no need to apologize, Sans.” Arya shrugs. She kicks lazily at her suitcase and smiles when it falls over. “I love you, you know. I’m glad you called me.”

“It’s funny, isn’t it?” Sansa chuckles. She finds her pajamas. “I hate Joffrey—

“ _We_ hate Joffrey.”

“ _We_ hate Joffrey, and yet because of him, we’re closer than ever. Without that night, we wouldn’t be here. I can’t regret that.”

Arya thinks about it as she strips from her clothes and finds her t-shirt. “I don’t like that it happened, but I don’t regret what came out of it either. We’ve come so far. I mean, do you remember when we had to share a bed during the lake trip in primary school?”

Sansa shakes her head with a small laugh. “You bruised my shin because I had cold toes!”

“They were icicles,” Arya says defensively. “And it wasn’t that bad.”

“My bruise lasted for three weeks.”

“It’s not my fault you have a delicate complexion.”

Sansa picks up a pillow and throws it at Arya. Being a professional athlete, she dodges it easily and sees a pair of Sansa’s lace knickers on the floor. She sling-shots them at her sister and Sansa is hit directly in the face. The two fall into a fit of giggles that they haven’t had in a long while.

Arya’s thoughts come back to her and she tilts her head. “My first instinct was to call Jon, not Marge.”

“Hmm.” Sansa consents.

“I’ve started thinking of him when I think of you. When I look back at everything, Jon’s just...there in your life. I always thought he was that way with Robb, or with me.”

“I’m not actually sure when it happened,” Sansa is whispering now. “But Arya...I think he’s the most important person in my life.”

A pause.

“I cannot believe you’ve replaced me, Sansa—”

They dissolve into another fit of laughter and Arya doesn’t remember stopping.

* * *

 

Less than a year later, Sansa Stark glides down the aisle in white lace and becomes Sansa Targaryen. 

(Jon didn’t want the name, but his aunt had been quite insistent—the heir to the throne needed to take the proper name.)

Arya stands by her side and holds her bouquet.

Arya is almost nine months pregnant.

Arya absolutely does not cry.

She _doesn’t._

Arya is asked to give a speech, so she stands up with a microphone.

“My wedding was on a hill top with nobody but my family,” Arya begins. “I don’t do fanfare and emotions and all of this, but there is one person in the world who can make me...and it is my sister. And to be honest, I didn’t even do well with the preparations for this. I didn’t know what I was going to say until this morning, before we all walked down the aisle. Sansa held my hand and went on in her fantastical way about my love and support. She said something specific, however, that stuck out to me.”

_“I know that I’ve never been there for you, the way you’ve been there for me,” Sansa blinks away her tears. “But I am blessed to have you and honored that you decided I was worth being someone to stand by. I love you.”_

Arya blinks away her own tears. “It’s just, you can be so stupid, you know? You’ve had to learn to see yourself for how beautiful and strong and fantastic you are, and you still don’t see everything you’ve done for me. I know about the way you promote my career. I know it’s you that makes a special apple pudding for me every single Christmas, even though you think it’s disgusting. I know that when I was ten years old, you had a sleepover and invited the girl who picked on me in school, solely for the purpose of cutting her hair and giving her the worst hairstyle in her sleep. I remember, Sansa, everything you’ve done, my entire life. I remember how you make five different popcorns on movie nights so that everyone has their favorite, how you sang Bran to sleep every night for three weeks after his fall. I remember how you took care of Theon and how you babysit so Sam and Gilly can date. You, Sansa, have always been worthy of being someone to stand by. No matter the changes you’ve gone through and how you’ve matured, you have always been loving and true. You have always taken care of me. Whether it’s cutting someone’s hair or wrapping my bleeding knuckles from a fight, you’ve always stood by my side. And I am so proud to have stood by yours today. I love you...and I will never stop. You are my sister, and I am so glad that everything changed after that.”

Then Sansa is hugging Arya and they’re both crying, and Arya likes to think the future isn’t a scary place for either of them. They have each other. They always have, really.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm maywildflowers on tumblr. hit me up for a trash can of my faves


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